Before Restraint
by Nimbus Llewelyn
Summary: The backstory of Angua's childhood. More of a summary on the inside. Please Read and Review.
1. Chapter 1

**Before Restraint**

**A/N: This stories beginning is set approximately 16-20 years before Men at Arms, and tells the story of Angua before her arrival in Ankh-Morpork, picking up on the part in the Fifth Elephant where she tells her mother that Ankh-Morpork taught her restraint, hence the title. I am going to continue T.P's portrayal of Wolfgang as an increasingly insane neo Nazi. just as a warning.**

_The baroness Serafine von Uberwald screamed as she gave birth to the last of her litter. 3 were wolves and one was human, yet 2 of the wolf cubs underwent a strange and visually disquieting change. The remaining wolf cub and the remaining human baby stayed the same. The baroness snorted with disgust. _Yennorks_ she thought, unworthy carriers of werewolf blood, aristocratic werewolf blood at that. Momentarily she wondered if the old tales about her ancestors mating with yennorks were true, then thrust it to the back of her mind. Of course they couldn't, no werewolf would betray the blood so by mating with a non-werewolf_** (1)**_. She looked at the other two pups, the two _true_ inheritors of their exalted lineage of the litter. One male, one female. Those two, the proper inheritors of the werewolf legacy would receive old, aristocratic and proper names, as befitting werewolves of such exalted heritage. The yennorks would receive rather more common names as befitted their somewhat more lowly status in the pack. She was about to change so to offer the maximum amount of nipples to the newborns when a young woman came in, men not being permitted entry to the birthing chamber, unless they were doctors. She curtsied and gave a note to the baroness and said, " begging your pardon milady, but an odd old man in orange robes came by and asked who you were, hearing the noises, when I told him who you were he smiled, and asked me to give you this and he also said, say hello to 'Wolfgang, Delphine Angua, Andrei and Elsa for me'". The Baroness bridled at the extraordinary presumption of a mere human for a moment, but then thought about the names. They were not so bad after all, she mused, and also it was well known that it did very little good and a lot of bad not to follow rule 1 _**(2)**_. Uncle Adolf_** (3)**_ had found that out the hard way None of the pack knew quite what happened, but since he came back missing one of his family jewels_**(4)**_, it wasn't likely to have been nice. Though he did shriek a little around old men in orange. Besides they were good names. Two of the names were noble, two common, as befitted the makeup of the litter. She unfolded the piece of paper. It said, _"One shall be powerful and much feared but will die at the hands of the Beast who wears justice like a cloak and carries the law like a candle in the wind **(5)** and never ceases chasing. One shall be clever and beautiful and have the love of the King who serves his people. One shall be a highly acclaimed champion and one shall perish in the killing flames, betrayed by one of her own blood."

_Serafine scanned the hastily penned note for a moment, then balled it up and threw it in the fire, where the future burnt in the fires of the past. The old man may have had a flair for names but he was a bad prophet. She changed and the newborns began to suckle, and their father came in, as a human and glanced at the litter and nodded satisfied. It was good._

_4 years later_

A golden furred youngish wolf cub pounced on a small blonde girl. In other places this would have caused much comment and possibly some screaming, but in the Von Uberwald household it was a fairly normal occurrence, as was the girl changing into a very similar if leaner wolf cub to the first and slamming the first cubs snout onto the ground and promptly squashing the other cub, all of which happened in a matter of a few seconds. The first cub let out a noisy 'harrumph' of irritation as he was sat upon and wriggled out from underneath his sister and trotted off grumbling under his breath. The cub that had been pounced on shook herself calmly and trotted over to another blonde girl in a small and highly old fashioned dress and another gold cub who were play fighting. The girl currently had the ferociously squirming wolf cub in a headlock. Said ferociously squirming wolf was getting dirt and spittle all over the dress, which the little girl was blissfully unaware of. The little girl looked up and cheerily said "Hi Delphine!", at the approaching wolf cub and looked puzzled as her sister pulled off the wolf approximation of a frown, and then she remembered. Delphine preferred to be called by her second name, Angua, despite the fact that mother despaired that it was _common_, and, _behaviour not befitting their station in life_. Elsa (for this was the little girl's name) made a face as her brother Andrei jumped up yelping and licked her face without warning. "Urgh, Andrei, get off!" she moaned as her brother sat on her so as to gain a better licking point, though he fell off with a yelp as Angua cannoned into him. For the moment, all of them save Wolfgang were happy. For the moment.

**This was the happy and carefree beginning to a story with a terrible conclusion...**

**(1)And how wrong she would turn out to be...**

**(2) Which was by now embedded in the back of the genetic codes drawer of the sentient species of the Disc. On the other hand, you always found some foolhardy Humans/Dwarves/Trolls who tried to break the rule and who would soon regret it deeply and wish they had listened to the little voice in the back of their heads saying, "For all the God's sakes, don't, please don't." Werewolves were more in touch with their instincts, so consequently more likely to listen to the voices in their head, something that didn't always turn out all that well. It's very nice and good if you have excellent survival instincts but not so good if you completely bypass (and wave at them as they go by) them to become a megalomaniac, and if you happen to be a creature that is vilified as a monster in some parts of the multiverse, this is as good as a death sentence. Evolution forgot about Health and safety where werewolves were concerned. **

**(3) I am sorry, but it was truly impossible to resist the temptation.**

**(4) Yet more temptation not resisted. This refers to the popular WW2 British soldiers song, 'Hitler's only got one ball'. You don't have to be a genius to see why it was popular.**

**(5) Many, many brownie points go to whoever works out the reference. Good L-. May the Lady with green eyes be with you.**


	2. Chapter 2: Where things get Dark

_**A/N:**__** This chapter is going to be a LOT darker, and Angua is aged 14, as is Wolfgang. The other two Andrei and Elsa are not initiated because they are yennorks. **_

10 years further on (14 years from birth)

_The interceding years past without much noteworthy incident in the Von Uberwald household, so therefore shall not be chronicled here, but there is one event should be looked at in retrospect. _

The man is running, running from the terrors that keep up with him easily as he scrabbles up the scree slope, razor sharp stones and unpredictable patches of ice adding to his woes. His name was Piotr Ivanovich, and he was 26, unmarried but with a girl for whom he had what the Quirmian's called _une petite tendresse_. She would be the one who sobbed over his tattered and mauled remains, called on the Gods for vengeance on his killers. And they heard, and though they granted her prayer, they waited, to see what the killers would become before they granted the distraught girls plea for vengeance, so as to choose the most appropriate punishment. One met a grisly end many years later, and the other, the one who had hung back at first, only attacking when she sensed that she couldn't afford not to, spent her whole life feeling guilty for what she had done that cold night. This latter punishment the God's thought apt, as she had played a comparatively lesser part.

However, back to the narrative. Piotr wore the tattered remains of old but good clothes, ones that had kept out the cold for many nights, but had been torn to shreds by the fangs of the were wolves.

None of this mattered to the werewolves. To them, he is just the Prey, to be hunted and eaten. Such is the law of the wild. The two young wolves, running with the pack for the first time that night were exhilarated by the smells, the speed, and above all The Chase. In every dog or dog like creature, there is an inherent habit of chasing anything that runs away.

The Alpha male snarls with impatience and prepares to put on the final spurt to take the prey when the Alpha female snarls at him, reminding him the young ones are to be blooded. The Alpha male howls, summoning the two pups to the head of the pack.

Delphine Angua and Wolfgang are to be blooded this night. Slobbering with excitement, two smaller wolves race to the front of the pack, having easily kept up thus far. The whole pack takes up the next howl, telling the young ones to put an end to the prey, the fool who lost the Game, which he had played to earn some money with which to start a business and set up a home so he could ask for his beloved's hand in marriage. Alas it was not to be as Wolfgang surged forward, Angua close behind.

As she chased down the human with her brother, who she deferred to, accepting his right to the first blood, she felt doubts. As was tradition, she had met Piotr before the Game was played. She and Wolfgang had stayed in wolf form so as not to alarm the man. When he greeted the pack solemnly and politely, he came round and greeted them all in person. When he came to Wolfgang and Angua, Wolfgang had snapped not-very-playfully at him. As Piotr darted backwards, Angua had buffeted her brother knocking him over. Piotr had smiled gratefully at her, his kind eyes twinkling. She had wagged her tail.

She had met him several times before when he came up to the castle to take orders (for he was an aspiring carpenter and a woodcutter, and were wolves love a good fire to curl up in front of) from the Baron and to negotiate a round of the Game. He had always brought up little wooden toys for the Von Uberwald children, all four of them (and had quickly learned to tell them apart), as a courtesy which the Baron approved of as did the Baroness in her own cold and aloof manner. Despite their occasional tendency to snack on the local population, Werewolves like noble families everywhere had a tradition of noblesse oblige.

This man who had only ever been kind to her and now she would have to kill him. She tried to hang back, but her mother's angry howl spurred her on. The price of failure was unspeakable and unendurable.

Wolfgang had already brought him down and was tearing at his hands which were held up in a final desperate plea for mercy, when none was forthcoming. The wolf in Angua took over as she leapt at Piotr with well simulated relish, not stopping even when a flailing foot connected with her ribs. She spotted an opening and leapt for the jugular, ripping his throat out with ease. As his lifeblood was spilling out, his last expression as he looked into Angua's eyes was one of betrayal. She would take that expression to her grave, the image of an innocent young man staring up at her sadly and reproachfully while his lifeblood turned the snow an ominous crimson. The wolf part of her howled to the heavens, proclaiming her triumph, while deep inside, the girl part of her wept, knowing she had just killed someone who had shown her only kindness.

The rest of the pack surrounded her and began to feed on the man's corpse. Afterwards they congratulated her on the kill, because of its clean execution. Wolfgang was resentful as he gained fewer congratulations, but was cheered by the chance to finally taste man flesh, known circumspectly as long pork on other parts of the disc. Angua did not feed, she would not, despite grievous temptation. She made herself a vow. This was it: If she could possibly avoid it, she would not kill any sentient creature ever again_**(1)**_. Wolfgang by contrast, intended to kill as much as possible, because he could and it was _fun_. Both followed their intentions to the letter in later life.

_**(1) Chickens are NOT sentient. Or are they... "Werk!"**_


End file.
